


Cherry Wine

by MysteryHack



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Ben Tallmadge is Clueless, Caleb Brewster is a puppy, F/M, Hurt, Im trying to get back into writing, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Native American!Reader, Pining, Polyamory, i dont know where this is going, shameless self-insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-07-08 18:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryHack/pseuds/MysteryHack
Summary: After leaving your tribe to assist Major Benjamin Tallmadge and Lieutenant Brewster with an assignment, you find yourself  enlisted in the Continental Army. You have a painfully obvious crush on Ben (Who is absolutely head over heels for you, yet clueless to your feelings), and Caleb Brewster (Who fosters a hopeless love for you and is sick of hiding it). Together the three of you must fight to survive a war, jealousy, pining, and the trials of a developing relationship.(Bad at summaries, Bad at writing)





	1. Chapter 1

The bonfire surges forward with the addition of another log, the flames licking ever closer to the heavens. Caleb adjusts his wide brimmed hat and leans more heavily against the stump he had been using as a backrest; his strength still minimal. The silence between the two of you is amiable, though you can tell he wants to shatter it, say something he’s had on his mind since his rescue. Ben had left you both in this abandoned shed in the woods, hoping to give Caleb time to heal from the horror his body had undergone under Simcoe’s ministrations, and had ordered you to use the medicinal knowledge you’d learned as the member of a small Iroquois tribe at the northern most point of the colony.

 

The first night you had wrestled with his delirium, always patiently pressing his feverish body back into the large, straw-filled mattress near the fireplace. Sweaty curls clung to his forehead, swirling like wisps of smoke, his screams echoing through the quiet thicket you were camped in. As if by an act of Providence, you weren’t discovered during these fits. On the third night, the whaler’s fever finally broke, and he managed to breathe out your name through gritted teeth. With some maneuvering and a lot of praying, you managed to help Caleb to his feet.  He had offered you a weak smile as he slid to rest on the ground, relishing the cool night air as it filled his lungs.

 

That was how you had ended up blushing furiously in the firelight, ducking your head as you chewed thoughtfully on the last piece of roasted rabbit. Caleb’s steady brown eyes kept their focus trained on you, a hint of a smirk quirked his lips upward. You continued to chew, hoping to excuse yourself before the smuggler could continue with his current proposition. Of course, you couldn’t chew fast enough.

 

“Ya know, Y/N”, Caleb worried the marrow out of the leg bone he had been holding, “I’m not just askin’ because you saved me life, either. We’ve been tangling for some time now, either as friends on the battlefield, or fellow smugglers in the Sound... My heart’s always jumpin’ when you’re around.”

 

You sigh and set your dinner down, heart squeezing slightly at the hope in Caleb’s eyes; it’s open and unabashed and you can feel yourself being swept up. “Caleb, we’re in the middle of a war. There’s no time for thoughts like these, and what’s more….Ben...” You trail off at the man’s wince.

 

“Listen, I know I’m not Tallboy. I can never be what Ben is to you,” a shaky hand cards through the bushy beard at his chin, “Don’t look surprised. I’m actually pretty damn perceptive when I wanna be.”

 

You try your hardest to close your mouth, but the disbelief is etched there. How had Caleb known? “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brewster. Benjamin Tallmadge is my commanding officer and friend. I suppose if you mean in the terms of you holding rank above me, then no...you will never be what Ben is to me,” You try to turn your tone lighthearted, “In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll outrank you by the end of this.”

 

“Cute. But not what I mean,” Caleb tries again, “You say his name while you sleep, you know?” His face becomes kind, pitying, “He may never return your feelings. Ben is…,” He sighs, “Tallboy is a league all his own. He’s a virgin for fuck’s sake. His work will always come first, and it’s not your fault.”

 

You scratch the back of your neck, all arguments dying on your tongue. It feels almost cathartic for someone else to know your secret, “I say his name?”

 

Caleb nods, pitching the bone into the fire, “You’ve been doing that for months now. If he were as red blooded as the rest of us... he would have made you his by now.”

 

You feel your cheeks heat at the implication, though you try to defend Ben, “Ben is just focused on winning, Washington has him running ragged. You’ve seen.”

 

“Aye” Caleb concedes, “But he’s runnin’ us the same way,” His tone becomes soft, “Alls I’m saying is you deserve something...someone waitin’ for you at the end of this war, and it might not be Bennyboy.”

 

You feel embarrassed tears prick at the backs of your eyes, you go to speak, but nothing falls from your parted lips.

 

“Like I said, I know I’m not... _him_. Never will be. But, I can make you happy. Just as much, maybe more.” Caleb’s tone turns pleading, “With me you’ll never have to wonder, I’ll always tell ya how absolutely  _perfect_  y’are. I’d never force you to be someone ya aren’t.” His accent becomes thicker the more desperate he becomes.

 

That catches your attention, “Ben has never forced me to be anyone other than who I am, and I don’t appreciate such an observation of your friend, Caleb.” Your tone is edging towards angry, and every muscle is prepared to head for the cabin, leaving Caleb to muse by the fire alone.

 

Two dirty hands are held out to you by way of surrendering, “I don’t mean it like that. Jus’ that you should be thinkin’ about what marrying Tallboy would even mean for you...”

 

You cock your head to the side, ready to argue once more, but the curiosity stops you.

 

When Caleb’s certain you aren’t going to hurl angry words at him, he continues, “Yeah, like...Benjamin Tallmadge…he’ll most likely be a Colonel by the end’a this war. Most likely have a thousand offers for a thousand fancy and important posts in the new government, if we win...”

 

Caleb’s eyes turn almost sad as he sees the realization painting your features, “So that means...”

 

“Aye,” Caleb explains, “He’ll be a real high society type. How’s he supposed to explain his wife’s  _native_  blood to a bunch’a powdered wigs who’ve never set foot off of their plantations?”

 

You run a hand through your hair, fingernails catching on a snarl; a piece of bramble falls into your lap, most likely from hunting earlier, “I hadn’t thought about it.”

 

Caleb nods,  “Plus, you love canoeing, and smearing squirrel brains on just about any wound big enough to merit the treatment,” His laugh is bright despite the harshness of the truth, “Do you think as Lady Tallmadge you’ll be able to enjoy any of the things that make you,  _you_? Now, I love Bennyboy as much as you, but let’s face it you and I...we’re… wild inna way he never will be.”

 

A tear slips from the corner of your eye, tracing a clear line through the soot covering your thumb. You hadn’t considered that, hadn’t considered that even if Ben loved you, it may not be enough.

 

Finally, you find your voice, shaky as it is, “I would give it up. All of it, Caleb. I don’t love Ben with the intention of making myself happy. It’s for him. All of it. My taking up the cause, my services both on and off the field, my friendship. It has never been about me.”

 

Caleb nods, scrubbing at his beard thoughtfully. It’s quiet for a time, and you think that  _maybe_  that’s the end of it. The end of Caleb’s love and your pathetic scrambling in defense of Ben Tallmadge, your defense of what your heart is starting to believe is foolish.

 

“I just want you to know, you have options,” Caleb’s voice is sweet and soft, the way you imagined it could be when entertaining the idea of being with him instead, “You don’t need to wait for Ben to get his head outta his arse. You don’t need to go back to your tribe at the end of this. You don’t need to walk between worlds anymore,” The Smuggler suddenly becomes very interested in the dirt under his nail, “I’ll love you, always. When there’s sun in your eyes and sea spray in your hair, when there’s blood covering you from head to toe and you’re searching for your tomahawk in the middle of a battle, when you’re begging for Ben in your sleep...I’ll always love you.”

Caleb goes quiet after that, offering the fire an uncharacteristically watery smile before dragging himself to his feet. You move to help him, but he waves you off, choosing to instead limp gingerly to the shack. You let him go, mind reeling from the conversation you’ve both just had. The only word that could come to mind was ‘impossible’. Everything about your life seemed impossible. Your secret enlistment into the rebel army, and now, your love for Ben Tallmadge and the life that could follow.


	2. Chapter 2

The stars shift in the sky, and the fire begins to burn low. You should have gone in to bed hours ago, but Caleb’s confession hangs heavy in your mind. He had been so earnest, his eyes shining in a way you had never seen before. Something in your gut roils at the memory, pushing your heart into over drive. You hadn’t imagined a life apart from Ben, where ever he ordered you, you would happily go; you would follow him into hell if he so chose.

 

But Caleb, he would never ask that of you, would never ask you to be anything other than what you are. Suddenly, whiskey brown eyes seemed comparable to the ocean blue you had come to adore. Unexpectedly, a chill ran up your spine at the thought of losing the booming laughter and sarcastic remarks you hadn’t realized were now part of your daily routine. You may not ever love Caleb precisely the way you love Ben, but you could try to love your friend in a way unique only to him. Ben Tallmadge would always be as beautiful to you as a marble statue, something to reverently worship, but Caleb Brewster was warm and alive, like the sunlight; familiar and comforting.

With your resolve steeled, you buried the coals of the campfire, hoping they would stay warm enough to stoke to life in the morning. Your feet carried you along the same path that Caleb had cut through the long grass earlier, your heart rested in your throat, hands trembling as you opened the door to the cabin. The soft glow at the hearth and Caleb’s light snoring greeted you. You toed your boots off loudly, hoping to stir Caleb from his sleeping. A shift in the sheets of his sickbed confirmed that you were at least marginally successful in your mission.

Caleb sat up in bed, shirtless and wild haired, his voice thick with sleep, “Y/N, what’re ya doing?”

Bare feet carried you passed your bed roll in the middle of the room and over to the owner of the husky voice. You stripped your outer layers as you went, scattering the clothing in a trail behind you. When you reached the bed Caleb was occupying, you were clad in nothing more than your soft, white slip. “I’m exploring my options.” You whisper, bringing yourself ever closer to the courier.

Cautiously, Caleb slides his fingers through your hair, careful to comb through the snarls with nothing but gentleness, “You are so beautiful. I’ve always thought that,” He curls his hand around the back of your neck, “Is this alright, love? I don’t want you to think I’m takin’ liberties.”

 

You nod and allow your lips to be captured by his. The kiss is sweet, filling your chest with something you’ve never felt before. You both break away for a moment when you whisper, “Take them.”

Caleb groans somewhere deep in his chest, wrestling you into bed with him. You feel his tongue slide along the seam of your lips, and you part them slightly to the intrusion. He tastes of rum and smoke. He tastes of promises and freedom.


	3. Chapter 3

You wake in the morning to large, calloused hands wrapped around your middle, and Caleb’s barrel chest at your back. The whaleboatman is still fast asleep, snoring lightly in your ear. Guilt tugs at you as you think of the Dragoon waiting for your return to camp. It wasn’t as though Ben needed to know about the goings on during your cabin retreat, but part of you felt disloyal. Caleb, in contrast smiled softly, and turned towards the planked wall as you pulled yourself from the bed.

 

Without sparing another glance at your partner, you redressed into your ranging gear and made for the outside. Perhaps hunting some breakfast would clear your thoughts of stormy blue and chocolate brown gazes. You fastened your tomahawk to the leather holster at your hip, bundled a biscuit in Caleb’s handkercheif, and made your way out the door. A weak whispered plea of “ _stay”_ almost wormed its way into your heart, but still your feet carried you across the threshold. The morning air was cool, and dew droplets painted your boots.

 

You followed the tracks of a rabbit for a while, weaving your way through the underbrush of the forest surrounding your hideout. Snaps of twigs kept you on alert, as you were in neutral territory; here you could be met by Tories or Patriots, the risk of running into the enemy made you cautious. You slid down a muddy embankment and reached for your axe upon finding something far more filling than a hare. A young deer grazed on the red flowers of a bush opposite the small creek you had found your way to. You raised the tomahawk, and watched as it successfully hit its mark. Hearing voices somewhere off in the woods, you wasted no time in slinging your prize, albeit heavy, over your shoulders and made your way back to camp.

 

Your stomach roiled at the possibility that Caleb was awake now, waiting patiently to talk to you about the events of the night before; you shivered as you felt the ghost of his beard on the skin of your belly. Your mind mused over just what to say, how to explain that while there may have been a new love blossoming there, the thought of Benjamin Tallmadge nagged at you like a healing wound. Caleb would understand, of course he would, but your chest ached as you imagined the disappointment in his eyes. You shook the hurt gaze from your thoughts and continued forward to the cabin. Low flames licked weakly up kindling in the pit, signaling that Caleb was indeed awake. You dropped your kill next to the fire and wasted no time in preparing the meat to be roasted.

 

The unsteady gait of someone too weak to travel very well reached your ears, and you turned to see Caleb gingerly hauling the thin, dry branches of a dead tree from the surrounding area.

 

“You should be resting, Ben trusted me to get you better...not make you work,” You rush over to grab the wood from Caleb, setting it near what’s left of the fawn as you help Caleb to the seat he had occupied the night before.

 

“Jus’ tryin to help.” Caleb gasps as the movement pulls at his chest’s gashes.

 

“How are you, this morning?” Your eyes meet his for a moment and you see that damned hope there.

 

“Better than most. I had the most wonderful dream,” Caleb’s eyes dance, “This beautiful lass and I found ourselves busy with...”

 

“Perhaps it’s the fever.” You try to joke, but it comes out far more halting than you’d wanted.

 

“Regretting it?” Caleb idly snaps his haul in half, tossing the pieces of branch into the fire.

 

The tone of his voice cuts you deeply, and you find yourself reeling a little bit, “No,” your voice is soft, “Caleb, I’d never regret that. I just...Ben.” You whisper pathetically.

 

“You came to me last night. You want this. You want me.” Caleb snaps another twig, and tosses it on the now burning pile.

 

“I did,” You reconsider your words, “I do. I just...keep thinking about Ben. How angry he’ll be. We’re officers in the Continental Army, Caleb. Fraternizing I’m sure is a taboo, especially since Ben trusted us to take a leave in order to heal you.”

 

“Love, what we did last night is the best medicine I could ever receive.” Caleb’s smirking and part of you wants to kiss the raising corner of his mouth.

 

“Be serious.” You say instead.

 

“I am. I’ll resign my commission the minute we get back to camp, if that’s what it takes.” Caleb gestures for some of the chunks of meat you’re preparing to skewer.

 

You decide to carry your project to Caleb’s side of the fire. You sit close enough that you’re touching from thigh to ankle, and part of you feels as though you can breathe again.

 

“Ben would be even more angry, I suspect, if he were to lose you in the middle of the war.” You sigh, plucking another morsel to impale it on the makeshift skewer.

 

“He would understand. He’d have to.” Caleb shrugs, as though leaving everything would be an easy feat.

 

“You would never abandon Ben.” You state, voice hard.

 

“You’re right,” Caleb whispers back, the playfulness that had been there moments before now ebbing, “But I can’t watch you moon over him anymore. I can’t watch you throw yourself into danger with the pioneers or dragoons anymore without feeling the need to dive after you. Ben would be better off without me now, I think.” Caleb sets his eyes on his own skewers, busying himself with setting them precisely in the fire.

 

“Caleb,” You sigh, and those heartstrings are tugging again, “I’m a soldier, same as you. We owe Ben our loyalty, and America our service. I would ask to transfer before I’d let you leave.”

 

“So what do we do then?” Caleb asks, eyes sad and shoulder slumped, it’s uncharacteristic and something in you breaks again.

 

“We explain it to Ben, as best we can...we let each other do their duties, and we keep trying to get through this war.” Your hand rubs through the thick brown hair at Caleb’s chin. You know you’ve been inconsistent in your thoughts and words, and silently you apologize to the two most important men in your life. This can’t be easy for Caleb, and it won’t be easy for Ben. You can’t help but fear that he’ll feel betrayed, as you and Caleb enter a new exclusivity, leaving him as an extraneous part of the partnership forming. It hurts, but you’ve decided to push Ben from your thoughts until you’re forced to face him once more.

 

Caleb closes the distance between you both, and something balloons in your chest, making you feel light despite the burdens resting on your shoulders. He mouths hungrily at your lips and you groan at the slide of his tongue on yours. Caleb feels the slight tremble in your hands as they card through the short ponytail at the nape of his neck. He tastes like whiskey, probably the bottle you’d been administering for pain, and you chase the taste when he tries to pull away.

 

Caleb’s chuckle warms you inside, “I think I need some healing, Doc.”

 

“We have some time before the venison is ready. I suppose I can see what I can do.” You mumble against his lips.

 

“I would love to see what you can do.” Caleb’s eyes are twinkling in that way, and it reminds you of every battle you’d watched him fight in. There’s a deep flush across his cheekbones and he sounds stronger than he had since before the affair with Simcoe. Maybe love was a healing thing.

 

 

The days carry on in mostly the same way, you hunt while Caleb rests and stokes the fire. It’s all so domestic, that part of you entertains carrying out the rest of your days right here. At night you’re so wrapped up in each other neither of you notices the party that’s been observing you for the last few days. The sound of a snapping branch pulls you from sleep, and you shake Caleb awake. The courier tries to resist, until he too hears the disturbance to the silence that had surrounded you both for near a week.

 

“I’ll go.” You say, pulling yourself from your shared bed.

 

“I’m well enough to fight.” Caleb pouts, following after you.

 

“You’re having trouble with the axe. Over compensating because of your wounds. I can see what’s going on.” You try again. Caleb is steadfastly ignoring you.

“Caleb, if it’s something I can’t handle, I’ll come back for you. I promise.” You say pressing your hand into his chest. He stops trying to tug on his boots and nods at you.

 

"Right. You're not a shrinkin' flower, and I know it," Intense brown eyes hold your silhouette in the early-morning light, "You go on ahead, I'll hang back and make sure base here stays safe. But if..."

 

You interrupt the rest of his warning with a light peck to his perspiring brow, "I swear to you if it's a number of Tory bastards on patrol I'll turn right around and come back to you," A large rough hand catches yours and you enjoy the callused palm scraping against the soft skin at the back of your hand, "I'm not looking to die today." You squeeze at Caleb's hand once before dropping it.

 

With your earthen cape secured tightly over your gear, you step out into the dawn. There's more rustling and voices in the thicket to your right, so you make to go left and flank them from behind. Your feet tread quietly over fallen leaves and branches, yet you manage to make yourself almost completely silent. The rough bark of a sapling scratches and pulls at the fabric clothing you as you duck and try to catch a closer look at the trespassers. Just as Caleb had feared, it was a squad of Red Coats sweeping the area for any sign of life.

 

You continue edging ever nearer to the patrol, attempting to make an accurate count of their numbers. The beating of your heart slows marginally as you realize there are only four men. You rest your head against the forest floor for a second and thank the gods that it isn't an entire platoon traipsing by. While their presence so close to the shack is worrying, their sparse number hints that the area remains neutral territory. As it is, the soldiers have missed your hideout completely. Fortune seems to be gracing you and the Lieutenant more now than ever before.

 

Confident the men won't be a threat, you turn to make your way back to Caleb, eager to kiss away the worry lines etching his face. Your eyes remain tracking the group as you backtrack, meaning you miss the old trap that had been placed in the brush by the cabin's previous occupants. Rusted cast iron snaps around your ankle with a loud 'CLANK' resounding off of the timber surrounding you.

 

You break out in a cold sweat as you go down, shock temporarily making you numb to the lacerations now opened on your leg. The dried leaves around you are dyed in a thick scarlet and your head begins to swim. You howl as reality comes crashing into your nerves, and you realize belatedly that you've betrayed your hiding spot. The dagger at your side unsheathes and you try with a panicked scramble to pry the teeth of the trap open. Maybe you can slink off under a felled tree and wait for the men to pass by, make them believe it had been an unlucky fox rather than a rebel soldier.

 

Your fingers are bloodied and your leg is no less freed by the time they're on you. Four muskets are pointed in your face, a sharp bayonet point rests on the tip of your nose.

 

"What's this, then?" A red coat with crooked teeth asks, flipping the hood of your cape with the butt of his own weapon.

 

"Certainly not a bear." Answers the man at the end of the barrel against your temple.

 

"Well, answer ya savage." The bayonet scrapes gently on your skin, and a thin cut begins to seep down your face.

 

Your stomach rolls and nausea prevents you from making a coherent thought, "I...hunt. Here." You offer pathetically, wondering if breaking into your mother tongue would save you from suspicion.

 

"Hunter, huh?" The man with the crooked teeth sneers, "Barnes, that looks like one 'a Georgie's poofter Officer's pistol, now don't it?"

 

 

"Where'd ya get this, girl?" Barnes snatches the pistol from where you had dropped it while wrestling with the trap.

 

Your teeth are clenching painfully, and you're almost positive they're going to shatter if you don't free yourself. You're silent for longer than the men deem appropriate, and before you know what's happening the butt of your own pistol connects painfully with the back of your head.

 

"Just have to take her in for questioning, aye? Might be rebel bastards in these parts yet." You hear a voice taunt from somewhere above you.

 

Your conscious mind begins to swim, and you find yourself being dragged into a dark haze.

 

 


	4. I'm sorry

Hey guys!   
Thank you so much for reading and commenting on this fic. Unfortunately, my laptop is broke and I'm too broke to fix it at present. Thank you so much and I apologise for the hiatus. 

I love you all 

-Mysteryhack


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